Behind Blue Eyes
by nik47
Summary: What I imagine was running through Richard Castle's mind in that final scene of 'Always', from the time the door opens to the time it closes, and beyond. Companion to 'Behind Green Eyes' - Beckett's perspective.
1. Chapter 1

**Thanks to the amazing response I received on 'Behind Green Eyes' - again, a huge thank you to everyone who added it to their alerts and took the time to review! - I now bring you 'Behind Blue Eyes' This is what I imagine was running through Richard Castle's head in that final scene of 'Always', from the time the door opens to the time it closes, and beyond. Thanks for reading - I hope you enjoy it!**

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He swung the door open, and found himself back on the edge. The sheer, heart-stopping edge.

_Kate…_

He'd lived the past four years of his life here, balanced on this edge, this cliff, this infinite, incomprehensible unknown. It wasn't even his, this void. It was hers. But _she_ was his. His muse. His friend. His partner. His…everything. And so he'd stepped willingly to the brink, risked the chasm, dared the precipice. For her.

He'd stood with her here, side by side, through every obstacle, every battle, every pounding of the elements which assaulted them because he couldn't _not_, couldn't fathom the idea of stepping back, of stepping away, of leaving her to face it alone.

But now, here wasn't enough. It wasn't _nearly_ enough, because it was no longer a stand – it was a crusade. A mindless, devastating crusade which wouldn't stop until it saw everything destroyed, until it saw her, bloodied, broken, consumed, falling into the bottomless darkness beneath.

And in the last seventy-two hours – seventy-two_ terrifying_ hours – he'd come to realize that it didn't matter how much he wanted to protect her, or how frantically he scrambled for purchase, or how tightly he gripped, solid ground in one hand, her in the other, desperately hanging on for them both.

It didn't matter because she didn't _want_ to be saved. Clinging to the edge was all she knew. All she desired. All she chose.

And it was going to kill her.  
And she was going to let it.

And no matter how much he loved her, no matter how much he yearned to stay, he could _not_ watch that, could not watch her lose her grasp, could not watch her fall. Because in falling, she'd fell him as well.

And now here he was, standing at his own door and feeling the pull of her yet again, looking out into the total nothingness below, listening to the violent sounds of wind and rain, whipping and wailing against that God-damned, life-devouring, ever-present abyss.

She was right here in front of him, unreachable. Dripping wet, hair plastered to her face, skin soaked and damp. Her eyes spoke to him, as they always did, intense pools of green drinking him in. Every part of her called to every part of him, urging him to join her. But he couldn't. He _wouldn't._

He willed himself to harden, willed the grief, the misery, the despair to infuse him, to engulf him, to eradicate the love screaming from every cell of his body in one swift, destructive surge, leaving nothing in its wake.

"Beckett, what do you want?"

And with one word, she unleashed the flood.

"_You_."

The clean force of it, the pure certainty in her voice, the utter conviction in her eyes…it was _staggering_. And then she was moving, barreling towards him, and he was faltering, he was retreating, because he couldn't…_she_ couldn't...

She did.

She _assailed_ him, desperate lips finding his,_ taking_ his, slick hands cementing to his skin, holding him in place, the slim length of her melding itself to every surface of his body, claiming every inch. It was too much, _she_ was too much, she was everything, and he couldn't…he just…he was _overwrought._

She pulled away then, and he was so grateful, so unbelievably grateful, because he felt absolutely inundated, wholly submerged, and he'd never so desperately needed her _not_ to be near him.

But she didn't go far, not far at all, not nearly far enough. She was still everywhere, surrounding him, touching him, hands, hair, body, the sound of her breathing in his ears, the feel of her forehead gliding wet down his, the scent of her skin against his nose, the taste of her mouth on his lips. Oh _God_. The taste of her…

"I'm so sorry, Castle. I'm so sorry."

It was achingly intimate, gut-wrenchingly raw, straight from her heart and so obviously _true_. His breath caught in his throat as her nose circled his, begging him to know, to see, to _understand._

But he didn't, couldn't. The confusion was just too much, he was utterly adrift, and she was still enveloping him, shredding his senses, drowning his thoughts, completely overwhelming every fiber of his being.

"I'm so sorry."

And then she was kissing him _again_, and he never wanted it to stop, but it _had_ to stop, had to end _now_, because they couldn't do this, not after he'd already decided, not after he'd already used every single ounce of his strength to leave, every last drop of his resolve to_ finally_ let her _go_.

He pushed her away, gripping her arms and holding on for dear life lest she return, a small part of him screaming at the loss, but the larger part gasping in relief, needing air, space, distance. Needing time to recover, time to comprehend. He resurfaced, gulping oxygen, regaining his senses. And then he forced himself to look at her, truly look at her.

_Kate…_

Her eyes were so _open_. So clear, so transparent, so sure. Tears slid down both of her cheeks as she gazed at him steadily, and he suddenly realized that there were no barriers left, no hint of anything resembling a wall. He could see _into_ her, fathoms deeper than ever before. And there was no fury, no anger, no frustration, or rage. The reflection was utterly still, beautifully calm. Waiting. She was waiting for him. _She_ was waiting for _him._

The revelation shook him, and he had to turn away, furiously flinging off the pain and the hurt, violently shrugging aside the memories of betrayal and deception, needing to shed it, shed it all, so he could focus. Focus only on the here and now.

He had to concentrate, _had_ to, because whatever was happening, whatever was occurring in this moment was just…_immeasurable_. His eyes returned to hers, ready, needing to know.

"What happened?"

She answered him immediately, her voice quiet, honest, holding nothing back.

"He got away…and I didn't care."

Her gaze held his as she spoke, an exquisite half-smile playing across the corners of her lips as she confided in him, genuine contentment gleaming from every delicate feature as she stood there and confessed her heart.

Without warning, hope exploded from his chest, suppressed this whole time, because it was just too dangerous to contemplate. He shied away from it, tried frantically to quash it. No. No, no, no…

"I almost died…"

He stared, heart pounding, struggling for control as a thousand emotions stormed and surged and careened wildly inside him, ferocious, unimaginable nightmares turning to reality at her words. _She'd almost died…_

"…and all I could think about was you."

There was a skip then, a pause, an agonizing eternity of incomprehension…and then clarity burst forth, lighting and penetrating every corner of his mind, shining through the maelstrom within, sweeping away the desolation and the darkness, leaving nothing but blinding revelation in its path.

She _wasn't_ on the edge.

She wasn't on the edge at all. She was here. She was _right_ here. With him. The inconceivability of this moment, the sheer and unadulterated shock of it, was just…he was incapable of processing it. Everything blanked, everything but her.

He watched in stunned disbelief, frozen, as her eyes explored his face, mapping it, memorizing it, devouring every detail. And then her gaze dropped to his lips, and her eyes darkened.

"I just _want_ you."

Her words flared over him, into him, coursing through his veins. And suddenly she was in motion, magnetized, reeling herself into him as if she had no choice in the matter, as if she were a compass, and he was North.

And suddenly he realized that they _were_ on an edge, an edge neither of them had ever seen or experienced before. The precipice beckoned, the chasm yawned beneath them, dizzying in its immensity, and they were swaying on the verge. The recognition jolted him from his stupor, supplied him with the strength to hold her back, preserving the distance between them.

His eyes sought hers desperately, willing them to open, needing to be absolutely sure. And they did, lids fluttering apart, green seeking blue, connecting. And what he saw there stopped his heart.

She was terrified. Utterly and completely terrified.

And he _knew_, he knew _why_, because he had seen that same emotion so many times, felt it so many times. Felt it every time he envisioned losing _her_.

She was in the past. She was on the edge, her edge. And she was slipping, life hanging by nothing but fingertips. And all she feared was losing _him._

She reached out to him, slowly, as if it might be the last time. Her hand drew nearer and nearer, and it was his to decide, his to choose. Two outcomes, two directions, two distinct possibilities. He could leave her on that edge in her past. Or he could join her on the brink of their future.

Thunder surged and lightning flashed as her fingers met his lips. And he decided. He chose.

_Her._

He swallowed the distance, obliterated it, and she was in his arms, safe, secure, sheltered and protected, and neither was clinging to anything but the other, and he kept moving, propelling them both, lunging forward, up, out, over, leaping, soaring, diving heart-first directly into vast, clear, blissful always.

Finally in freefall.  
Together.

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**Good lord! This one was _so_ much more challenging than 'Behind Green Eyes'!**

**Castle's thoughts were infinitely harder to write than Beckett's - he just gets hammered in this scene, emotionally lambasted over and over and over again. I'm really not entirely sure if I pulled it off. I'd love to hear your take on this one - what did _you_ think?**

**UPDATE: chapter two is now up, and I can't thank you all enough for the wonderful feedback on this story! You guys rock! :D**  
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	2. Chapter 2

**You guys are seriously epic - a simple thank you doesn't even begin to do justice to the amazing response I received on this piece. And yet, a thank you is all I can give. Well, that and the rest of the story! So, without further ado...**

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They were out of control, plummeting as one in the sheerest drop he'd ever known. And for the merest fraction of a second, he truly thought they'd continue falling forever.

And then, impact.

Her momentum splintered as she hit the door, her weight swinging it closed behind her with a crash as her back collided against unyielding metal, slamming every inch of her to a jagged halt. But _his_ momentum was infinite, irrepressible, and the force of his body meeting hers was not nearly enough to arrest it. He broke over her, through her, surging up, around, and into every pore, flooding her now, as she had flooded him.

He heard a gasp escape her lips, felt the breath tear from her lungs, relished the reactions he was pulling from her body, and then insisted on more, so much more.

For four years he'd been completely and utterly _aware_ of this woman, so wholly attuned to every aspect of her. Worked with her, watched her, lived and breathed her. He'd wanted her since he first laid eyes on her, needed her more and more with every coffee delivered, every smile exchanged. He'd loved her for years, long before he'd actually said the words. And now she wanted him back. And he'd thought he knew what this would be like. But he'd had no idea. No. _Idea_.

He was beyond words, beyond thought, beyond reason. His entire existence was _her._

Their mouths fused together, hotly, urgently, possessively. Her hands on his cheeks drew him nearer as his palms grasped her waist, sliding under the wet leather of her jacket, over the damp fabric of her shirt, grip tightening, dragging her forward, pressing her closer, thighs, hips, chest, everything deliciously joined to him.

Her mouth parted beneath his, hungry, demanding, wanting more. He obliged, skating his fingers up her sides, snaring her face between them, twisting into her rain-soaked hair, holding her fast as his tongue sought hers and tangled, then slipped past her lips, mining the unbelievable taste of her. A jolt flashed through him then as she mimicked the motion, gliding her way into _his_ mouth and exploring every corner of it. _Jesus…_

His blood boiled, body reacting, and he had to wrench himself away, _had_ to chart the rest of her. Her back arched as his hands dropped again to her hips, securing her against him. His mouth trailed a hot path along her jaw, nose burrowing into her skin. He allowed himself one utterly essential moment to relish the pure, clean scent of her, then continued, tongue blazing down the wet, bare length of her neck, en route to her collarbone, which screamed for his attention.

He could feel her hands in his hair, nails scraping scalp, urging him on as his teeth grazed the line of her clavicle and his fingers traipsed a tantalizing path up her spine, settling firmly on her shoulders before pulling her body down hard, tighter into his, igniting them both with the delicious friction they created together.

Her gasp sounded against his ear, her hands intensified their grip on him, and her hot breath teased a path down his neck, coming louder and harder and faster. Her uncensored reaction to his touch spurred him on, whipping him into a frenzy. His mouth returned to hers, seeking blindly, almost desperately, finding her there at last, _right _there, waiting for him.

And as he tasted her yet again, devoured her mouth with his own, he realized that one thought _had_ managed to linger, had clung to his mind tenaciously this entire time, refusing to let go. His utter need for her – and hers for him – had consumed everything else, but this one stark truth remained: _she had almost died._

He recoiled at the veracity of that fact, urgently trying to shove it away and seek refuge in her, only her, running his lips and hands over every reachable inch of her body. But reality loomed, inescapable, and he was suddenly in a panic. He couldn't lose her. Not again. Not after everything. Thunder crashed outside then echoed, shifted, became the sharp report of a rifle, the impact of a bullet, and the stunned exhalation of air from lungs as metal pierced flesh.

_Kate…_

Her face filled his mind, shocked, terrified, tear-streaked, staring into his eyes as he held her to him and begged her to stay. But she was leaving him and he was watching as the blood spilled from her chest, hot and wet and red, and he knew there was nothing he could do, knew he couldn't stop it…

_I love you. I love you, Kate._

The memory encompassed him, swallowed him whole, threatened to obliterate him…before her arms wrapped around him and drew him closer, returning him to her. Because she _hadn't_ left him. She'd come back. She was _here_. She was_ right_ here.

And suddenly he just needed to know, needed to see, needed to feel. Her healed skin, her steady pulse, her heart, alive and well, beating with his. His mouth left hers, mind wholly focused on a single part of her, one destination. He felt the shift in her as she registered the shift in him. Her body trembled then, stiffened beneath him, muscles tensed, and for one frightening moment, he thought she was going to pull away.

But then she relaxed and softened, melting back into him as his mouth traveled down her chest. Her hands found his arms, resting lightly, encouraging his reach for the buttons of her shirt. Everything stilled around them, slowed and focused in as his forehead rose to hers and nestled there, craving the solid feel of her pressed against him, fingers shaking as he peeled back the wet fabric covering her heart and finally,_ finally_ saw.

He stared, couldn't tear his eyes away, unable to believe that something so small could be so incredibly significant. This faint mark on her body was responsible for so much pain, so much damage, so much absolute destruction. It had devastated him, besieged her, and stood between them for almost a year, spawning lies, betrayal, and deceit, shaking the foundations of everything they knew, threatening the essence of everything they _were._

This tiny scar had almost ended them.

And then he felt her hands take his, guiding him forward, joined fingers sliding towards skin, and he breathed deeply, willing every nightmare to the surface in this moment: every flash of her face as she lay dying before him, every flutter of her eyelids as they slipped slowly shut, every jolt of the ambulance as it careened forward, every jump of the monitor as it mapped out her life, every beat of his heart as hers stopped completely, every second he was alive and she wasn't, every surge of electricity calling her back, every gasp of air when she finally returned.

He amassed it all, every terrifying, tormented, horrific detail of that day. And as his hand slipped into place against her heart – warm, beating, alive – he met her eyes, bared his soul…and let it go.

She was here, they were together, and it was time for both of them to move on from the past, loosen their hold and release it all, completely. His senses breathed her in, every part of her, eyes closing as his lips found solace in hers.

Their mouths united, softly, slowly, offering up all they had, all they were, erasing every wound, every wall, every betrayal and every lie, pure incandescence cleaning them out.

They parted only once it was done, opening their eyes together upon an entirely new existence. He watched in wonder as the purest smile he'd every seen graced her lips, and he knew with utter certainty that this was forever.

He felt her hand slip down his arm, her palm caress his, their fingers sliding home against each other. Hitched.

For a brief instant, they stood motionless. And then he was caught in the wake of her, swept along on a clear, surging swell of hope and certainty, green eyes and clasped hands, absolute love and the heart-stoppingly familiar bite of a lip.

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**And that's all, folks! I hope you enjoyed it, and I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

**This story - along with my other, 'Behind Green Eyes' - has been such a total joy to write, thanks in large part to all of you wonderful readers here. Again, you guys, thank you so much. I have absolutely no idea what I should write next (Ideas? I'm totally open to them!), but I'm already excited at the prospect of it! :)**

**Also: CASTLE AND BECKETT ARE OFFICIALLY TOGETHER! GAH!**  
**Okay, sorry, just needed to get that out. ;)**


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